Dulcis Domus
by tombombadillo
Summary: "No, you- you don't understand. You keep telling me that we'll go to the doctors and we'll sort this out, and that I've missed 15 years of my life and that we're married and we have three kids, who I'm sure are amazing, but none of this feels real. I mean, I can touch you and talk to you and you're there but it doesn't – nothing feels real." (pug universe)
1. Chapter 1

**For Alex and Cait, who come up with the general idea for this. (A puggy story that isn't for Vallie KT R U FEELIN OK yes I am fine) I am just writing it. This turned out slightly more angsty than I intended it to be, but oh well? I know this is unlikely to happen and really I've pushed this to the extreme but whatever I don't curr.**

**This wasn't originally going to be anything other than a one-shot, but then I realised just how long it was going to be and decided otherwise. I still don't know how long it's going to be, oops.**

* * *

_dulcis domus - sweet home_

* * *

His head hurts.

Wow.

Oh, his head really hurts.

Did he drink too much? Was he even drinking anything last night? No, it was just a quiet evening at the loft with Kate. They drank maybe a glass of wine each. That was it. Not nearly enough to make him feel that ill, surely. And then he realises, in his just woken up daze that there's someone bouncing on his feet. And there's a nose at his cheek. A cold wet nose. He goes to push it away, expecting to find warm human skin. Kate's warm and human skin, though why her nose is cold and wet is beyond him. Except it's not warm and human, it's warm and… furry? He opens one eye carefully, not sure what he's going to see.

That's a dog. It's a small dog, admittedly. But it's a dog. One with a squashed greying muzzle and wrinkles almost everywhere. A pug, if he's not mistaken. An old pug, at that. And looking down at the covers, there's a black pug sat on his foot. A pug with three legs. Why does he have dogs in his bed? And then things get even weirder. The loud slap of small bare feet on polished wood, and then there's a wild eyed boy at the bottom of his bed. His hair looks like he's been electrocuted and he looks positively terrified.

The three legged pug bounds towards the kid who really, he couldn't be more than three years old. And he looks so much like Kate it's terrifying. Kate doesn't have a three year old son. He'd know if she did. He also doesn't have dogs.

"Ben!" Well, that's Kate. That's definitely Kate. He can hear the purposeful march towards the door. "Ben, you can't hide!"

Ben makes a split second decision and lifts the covers up and over his head, starts to crawl up the bed. It's a vain attempt because he knows Kate isn't stupid enough to believe that the lump in the middle of the bed isn't Ben. However, Ben is cleverer than he looks and manages to wiggle his way under until he can lay completely on top of him. And maybe if he was larger and weighed a couple of more stone then he could get away with it. He might even get away with it considering how dark the room is.

"Ben, really, it'll take less than a minute. Just let me brush your hair." He sees the shadow of Kate at the door, one hand on her hip, the other wielding a hairbrush. "Castle? You awake?"

"There's two pugs and a kid in my bed, Kate."

"That's a surprise?"

"I – yes?"

"Are you sure you're not still half asleep, Castle?" she walks over to him with a smile on her face, lifts the covers away from him. Ben squeals and rolls away, falling off the edge of the bed and crawling under it until he's lying in the middle the floor, the soles of his feet pressed against the underside of the mattress.

"Honestly, I think I'm dreaming."

"Why?"

"Because there's a three year old – is he three? He looks three – and he's under my bed, and there's a pug on my feet and another – there was another one – I don't know where its gone, and I swear when I went to bed it was just you and me. And now there's a three year old and two pugs."

Kate's looking at him with a small frown on her face, like he's said something completely weird and strange and giving her a cause for concern. "Castle… we have more than that. It's… Ben is under the bed, and he's got Frappuccino. That's the black one. We found him as a puppy in an alleyway, we had to have one of his legs amputated. And then there's Latte. She's getting old, kinda grey around the muzzle. And then Mocha and Macchiato are out with Mary and James."

"Mary… and James?"

"Yes, Castle. Mary's twelve, James is nine. They've gone out with Alexis. You're not dreaming, Castle. We've been married for thirteen years. We got Latte almost fourteen years ago."

"I… don't remember."

"Castle… Castle, that's not funny."

"I'm not being funny, Kate. Yesterday I was … it was just us two. There were no pugs, or children, there was no ring on our fingers and we didn't even live together.. I mean, we did, practically, but it wasn't official . Isn't official. I can't tell you what our wedding was like, what you wore, where we went on our honeymoon. I don't know what happened when you supposedly gave birth to… our children-"

She's staring at him like he's just grown another five heads. "Supposedly gave birth?" She's marching to the other side of the bed, throwing picture frames down next to his hip. "Castle, those are _our_ children. We made them. They're our family."

He looks down at the frames, and he can't deny that it's him in the photos. Definitely him. On holiday on some form of beach, digging a moat around what could only be described as the biggest sandcastle that he's ever seen. It's not Ben, the boy he's with, so he can only presume that it's Jaime. His other son. There's another one with what looks like the Sydney Opera house in the background. And there's Kate, sunshades and shorts and a strappy top, looking completely radiant in the Australian sun. She's got what could only be a young Ben on one hip and her arm around a young girl who looks almost similar to Kate in her attire. She looks about eight, her smile just as wide as her mothers.

And then there's the third one. The third one that's in a fancy silver frame, encrusted with the odd diamante. And he's in a tuxedo, and Kate… is a vision in white lace and looking at him like he's the sun and the moon and the stars and everything else in-between. It's not that he doesn't know how much she loves him, because he does. She doesn't tell him that much, not in words per se, but she shows him in her own way. But just the way she's looking at him in that photo it makes him dizzy.

"We're married." He says softly, running his fingers over the wire pattern.

There's a thump under his hip followed by a loud wailing noise. Kate startles and ducks down, holding out her hands to pull Ben out from underneath. His face is screwed up in pain, a hand curled in his ridiculous mass of hair."Momma, I bumped my head."

"I know, Benny. We heard. Shall I kiss it better?" Ben lifts his hand away and Kate bends her head to press her mouth to the offending bit of skin "Everything okay now?"

"Want Bendog." He mumbles, twisting his head to try and find him. "Bendog."

Kate sets him down on the floor and he's gone in an instant disappearing in search of his own dog. Castle watches him go with a stunned look on his face, the photo frame limp in his hand. "Castle, if this is seriously your idea of a joke it's really not funny. It's not funny at all and you're starting to scare me."

"I wish I could tell you it's a joke, Kate. I wish I could because frankly this is strange and scary and I don't understand anything. I don't understand why I can't remember anything. This is ridiculous."

"Maybe you're… sleep talking. Or walking. Or something. Maybe you just haven't woken up yet. It's not the first time it's happened."

"Mumbling about cars is not the same. This is not the same as mumbling about cars."

"Yeah, but it happens…"

"But I feel awake. I feel like I am awake and I'm in my own body and my own mind and I know what's going on except really I don't because I woke up and there's this whole life that I never even imagined. I mean, I imagined it. I imagined having kids with you, watching you grow, your belly swollen with our child, I imagined that. And weddings, and honeymoons and maybe a dog but I never…"

"Maybe if you just went back to sleep. Lay down and go back to sleep and you might wake up and everything will be back to normal. It'll be fine." She smiles at him, like she believes what she's saying is true and then bends down to pick up the eldest pug from where she's waddled back into the room. "Keep Latte with you. She might help you remember."

The small dog stumbles over his legs and curls up in ball by his hip. She's asleep as soon as her chin hits her paws. Kate looks at her with a sad look, and then bends down to press her mouth against his. "I love you."

* * *

_castle…_

_castle, you've got to wake up_

_castle, please_

_for me, wake_

* * *

"It's not working."

"What's not working?"

He stops still in his tracks, looking at the not so young red-headed woman that's sat at his dining table. Is that… is that his daughter? Alexis. Oh, oh she's all grown up. She must be… what, in her early thirties? And unless he's mistaken… that's the silver glint of a ring on her finger. Engagement or wedding, he doesn't know, but his daughter, she's stepped out on her own. She's not his little girl anymore. "Dad… you look kinda funny."

He jerks his attention to the young brunette next to Alexis, looking at him with a sense of amusement. "I-"

"Your father is suffering from a … lapse in his memory." Kate answers for him, pushing a plate of biscuits onto the table.

He senses Alexis' concern before he sees the look on her face and he knows what she must be feeling. He's not exactly young, and it'll only be a few more years before he reaches the tender age of seventy, and Alzheimer's and dementia are proving more and more common. But this… it couldn't be. Right?

"How bad?" Alexis questions, ignoring the plate of biscuits that the other three have started to attack.

"I don't know." He replies quietly, looking around at what is his home. It's his space, and it should feel familiar but it's completely alien to him. Toys and dog beds and crayon drawings, more photo's of events he think he should remember but for the life of him he just can't. "At least the past fourteen years. I wasn't married, and we didn't have this many dogs and Kate still had her own apartment. Alexis, you were still in college. You weren't… married, or engaged. You were seeing Max. You were at college and you were seeing Max."

"The past fifteen years… completely gone? You don't remember… anything?"

"I wish I could. I mean look at you all… you're my family and Alexis you're your own woman. You've made a life for yourself with someone you love but I don't… remember any of it."

"So, Dad doesn't remember the time I drew all over his books?"

"I – you – he – what?"

"He was five. And no, Jamie. No he doesn't."

"What about the time when –"

"I think we can safely assume that your father does not remember anything that any of you, bar Alexis, has ever done. Stop asking him." Kate snaps, laying a heavy hand on Mary's shoulder.

"Kate –"

"Don't tell me you'll be okay, Castle. Don't tell me this will be fine because you don't know. You don't know and you can't promise. You can't remember anything. You can't remember our wedding, our honeymoon, the day we got Latte, the day I told you I was pregnant. You don't remember when I gave birth to Mary, or James. You don't remember how surprised we were when we found out about Ben. Fifteen years, Castle. Those fifteen years – that's our life, in those fifteen years that's the majority of _our_ story and you can't remember any of it."

Mary's looking at him now, wide eyed and terrified and so completely confused. "Daddy?"

"I'm…" Except he doesn't know. He can't convince Kate that he'll be okay, that everything will work out because he can't. They don't know if he's losing his memory, whether it's due to old age or something more sinister, but there's something – something is going on. And he wants to be able to tell them that he'll be okay. To quench Kate's fears that she's going to lose him, to stem his children's fears that his time is almost up. "I don't know what do do."

* * *

_up_

_you need to wake_

_castle, please_

* * *

"We'll go to the doctors." Kate watches him from the bathroom door as he looks at a toothbrush that isn't his. "We'll sort this out, Castle. It might be painful and horrible but we'll do something."

"I don't want them – Mary and… I don't want them to watch this. What if it only gets worse? What if I wake up tomorrow and another five years have gone and I don't remember you. What if I don't remember who you are?"

"We've come through worse."

"Really, Kate? Are you sure about that?"

"No, not particularly. But I like to live in hope. Surely we've had enough rubbish in our lives and this is just going to be something to laugh about when we're years older."

Castle drops his toothbrush in the holder (at least he recognises that) and turns to her. "You believe that?"

"One of us has to, don't they? I always thought it'd be you, believing in the hope and the belief that no matter how shit things turn out to be they'll turn out okay in the end, and if you're not… if you don't believe in that just for this time, then I'll have to do it for you."

"You never used to be this… positive."

"I've – we've got a family now. We have to stay positive. Castle, you're the one who taught me that not everything is death and trauma and murder. You helped me see the light past the darkness, you pulled me out of a dark hole and if I have to do the same for you, then fine. I can do that."

"Yes, but-"

"We'll go to the doctors, they will work out what's wrong and we'll fix it. And if they can't fix it then we'll live. I'll just… Tell you everything. Photo albums. The kids will tell you stories. Things might be a bit hazy, but you'll know them."

"Kate… "

"Don't _Kate_ me."

"No, you- you don't understand. You keep telling me that we'll go to the doctors and we'll sort this out, and that I've missed 15 years of my life and that we're married and we have three kids, who I'm sure are _amazing_, but none of this feels real. I mean, I can touch you and talk to you and you're _there_ but it doesn't – nothing feels real."

She looks like he's slapped her across the face, and maybe he has. Emotionally, rather than physically. He hates himself for it. He hates hurting her in any way, but he refuses to lie to her. He's not going to let her think that this is going to be at all okay.


	2. Chapter 2

**This is seriously way more angsty (and longer) than I ever intended it to be. Things will be explained. Eventually. Mwah ha ha.**

**For those who don't know, I'm away on holiday without wifi from Thursday until the 27****th**** August. I'll get some writing done while I'm there, but until then, last update from me. At least for this story. I might get a chapter of Random Happenstances up tomorrow.**

* * *

He's looking at the row of books, his books, ones that he remembers writing, and those that he doesn't. There's some recognisable ideas that he knows he's thought about but never actually plotted out, dedications that he doesn't remember writing, memories and emotions that he doesn't recognise, or feel, inked onto the pages of his livelihood. They're obviously him, it's his style of writing, and it's Nikki and Rook, but they feel like strangers to him. He knows them, he fashioned them, they are his creations. But the Nikki and Rook in these new novels are different. Evolved. He doesn't recognise them. And that scares him. That scares the crap out of him. Everything's the same, but everything's so completely different and he doesn't like it.

"Dad?"

He doesn't recognise the voice, but he's used to being addressed as dad, and he turns automatically, his knees complaining loudly at the movement. "Yeah?"

"Mom says you… she says you don't know who we are. Is this some kind of joke, because it's not funny."

"I wish it was… Jamie. I wish it was. But I'm sure it's nothing. Just a little blip. We'll get it sorted, me and your mother. Just watch, it'll be fine."

"Do you really believe that?"

It's a good question. He doesn't know whether he believes it. He's not sure what's real anymore. It doesn't matter that he can feel the paper of the books beneath his fingers, the hard wood underneath his knees, he can take Kate's hand in his and feel her pulse, the beat of her heart against his own. He doesn't recognise it. But, Jamie is supposedly his son, his flesh and blood, and he feels like he should at least try and sooth his fears.

"Yeah, I believe that. Doctors can work miracles you know, I mean, it's… what year is it?"

"Twenty twenty seven, Dad."

"Right, yeah. It's twenty twenty seven. Doctors are all full of brilliant ideas and new technologies. They'll sort it out. Everything's going to be just… fine."

Jamie looks at him, nine years old, and the expression on his face makes Castle's heart hurt. He doesn't believe him. He doesn't think that any of this is okay. "And what if they can't? What if you can't remember anything?"

"Then I'll just learn. There's photo albums and school reports and … your mother remembers a lot of stuff. And you guys can tell me things, right? It's not a complete lost cause."

"Mom thinks it is." He says, just as easily as he could say that the sun is shining and then he's leaving again, just as quietly as he arrived, leaving Castle to his mixed and muddled thoughts.

* * *

"I've made an appointment… with the doctors." Kate's standing at the bathroom sink, both hands gripping the ceramic, knuckles white. Her toothbrush dangles limply from her fingers, completely forgotten. She's staring into the mirror but he doesn't think she even sees her reflection looking back at her. She looks lost, and forlorn and without hope. "They said they'll see you tomorrow. I suppose being a millionaire has its benefits. Good healthcare. I've phoned work, said it's a family emergency. I'll take the kids to school, and then I'll come back, and we'll go."

"I can take the kids. I don't mind."

"I'll let you take them if you can tell me where they go. What's Jamie's middle school? Ben's kindergarten teacher? Where do you drop Mary off so she doesn't have to suffer the embarrassment of being dropped off by her parents?"

He doesn't know how she manages to keep her voice steady for that, but she does, at least until the last word when her voice cracks and she has to turn her head away so he won't see the tears in her eyes. And that, he thinks, breaks his heart more than anything. Time was she didn't feel the need to hide from him.

"Kate-"

"It's not your fault, Castle." she says in hushed tones, shoulders bowed away from him. "It's not… you wouldn't… I'm sorry."

"It's fine, Kate. You take the kids. And we'll go to the doctors and see what's what. We'll sort it out."

Kate looks down at her hands, seemingly surprised to see that she's still holding her toothbrush. "Sort it out."

"Yeah. Doctors are smart, you know. It's twenty twenty seven. They'll have medicine, and fancy machinery. They must have had amazing breakthroughs with medicine. Right?"

"You'd think, but the thing about development is that the diseases find a new way to come back too. They thought they'd cured dementia, but it still came along and bit them in the ass. And what if they can't find a cure? Or even a cause? What if you've just lost fourteen years of your life and there's no way of getting them back, what am I supposed to do then, Rick? How am I supposed to keep a family together when someone doesn't even recognise his own children?"

"Kate, that's not-"

"Not fair? No, no it's not fair. Nothing about this is _fair_. My children are supposed to have a father growing up. They're supposed to have a dad who knows that Mary likes her peanut butter slightly melted before she has it on her toast, or that James can't sleep without his blanket tucked under his feet, or that you have to take the baseball away from Ben before he goes to sleep because otherwise he'll stay awake on guard duty for as long as he can. What do you do at bath time? How do you persuade James that it is bedtime and he has to put down the games console, or that Mary has to stop telling Ben ghost stories? Do you know that?"

She doesn't bother hiding the tears this time, doesn't try to stop them rolling down her cheeks. And he can't think of anything to do other than pull her against him, arms like strong bands around her back. She resists at first, tries to pull away, but homicide detective or not, he's always been stronger than her and eventually she gives up and sags against him, using his shoulder as a pillow.

"What happened to the positivity, Kate? What happened to learning to be positive, to see the light in things? You were so adamant that things would be okay this morning, that we would be okay. And now you're looking like someone has died. I know I might not be all here, but I'm not dead. I'm still here, and I don't plan on going anywhere."

She sighs, tries to burrow closer to him, like she could just crawl inside of him and lose herself in him. Forget that all of this is happening. "I'm scared, Castle."

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't too. But I'm a fast learner. I can learn things. Make flash cards, we can do family quizzes. It's not the end of the world. And I know I love you, I know that everyone in this loft is my family, and I love my family. Kate, you know that. Please tell me you know that."

"Castle, when you woke up this morning you didn't know you had a family."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You say you love your family, but you wouldn't know that this was your family if I hadn't told you. You can say you love them all you want…"

"You don't believe me." he whispers, his voice hoarse, full of disbelief that Kate could ever think that. Could ever think anything like that.

She hesitates when she answers, but she looks straight in his eyes, her gaze unwavering. Completely honest. "No. I don't think I do. I don't think you love them."


	3. Chapter 3

**I hate writers block more than I hate Steven Moffat. And I hate Steven Moffat a lot. I have the words in my head THEY JUST WON'T LEAVE MY BRAIN AND GO ON THE PAGE GRR.**

**Disclaimer: induction day at college tomorrow help haven't been in education in almost three years.**

* * *

"You see here?" Castle squints at the x-ray that Dr. Jeremy Unsworth is pointing to. Personally he can't see anything but his brain, can't make sense of the wiggles and squiggles that this new found technology can pick up. "You've got a subdural haematoma. A bleed in the brain. It could have been caused by a bang to the head. Have you experienced any physical trauma recently?"

"No," he replies, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible, "at least, not that I can remember. Kate probably knows better than me." They both turn their heads to Kate, but she's not looking, and if somebody asked him, he'd say that it doesn't look like she's paying attention. "Kate?"

Kate doesn't trust herself to speak without her voice breaking, so just shakes her head. She's standing on the other side of the room, leaning heavily against the wall. Distant. He went to bed before her, she was up before him, and he's pretty sure she slept elsewhere. Anywhere except next to the man who claims he loves her, loves their children and their family. Except she doesn't believe him. He doesn't know if even he believes him. He knows that he loves Kate. He loves Kate no matter what, whether she's old and grey, or young and stubborn. And this is his family. _His_ family. He _loves_ his family. His flesh and blood, his genes. All he needs to do is look at those children and see that they're his. Except now he doesn't know. He's not sure he knows anything. All he knows right now is that his brain is bleeding.

"Sometimes, these things just happen. It is curable. We can operate today."

"And that will bring my memory back? I'll remember everything?"

"There is the small chance that it won't, and you should be prepared for that. Or you could gain partial memories. There's no way of knowing."

"But - you can operate?" Kate asks, her voice low and hoarse.

"It's a serious but simple operation. I'll have someone prep you as soon as possible."

He takes the x-ray with him, sliding it into a file as he goes and Castle sinks back against the hospital bed. He doesn't want to be here. He wants to be home. Not this home, with a Kate who doesn't trust him, and a family he doesn't know, but the home he knows. Knew. The home he had fourteen years ago. With just Kate and a pug. Life was simple easy and he didn't have a subdural haematoma.

"I need to go and pick the children up."

"You're – Kate, I'm going into surgery in like half an hour. Do you have to?"

"You want me to leave our kids stranded at school?"

"No – I – just, I'm scared. I'm – Kate, I'm terrified. This is brain surgery. Mary has a key, right? Phone the car service. Get Alexis, or Martha – Kate?" It's not until the mention of his mother and Kate's gaze lowers, lower lip taught between her teeth. "Kate?"

"Your mother. Martha, she – she's been in a home for the past year. She was old, and she had a fall and she never recovered properly. Alexis is busy. She's married, she has her own family, I can't just – I have to go and get them."

"And you're going to take them home, and cook them dinner and help them do their homework and then tuck them up in bed and leave me here. I'm going into surgery for countless hours and you're going to go home and _leave_ me – leave your husband-"

"You're not my husband."

She regrets it the moment she says it, he can tell. Her eyes grow wide, her breath catches and she looks away from him. Ashamed. "Yeah, you've made that clear. You know, I thought that after all we'd been through together – _everything_ – you'd at least try and be here for me. You don't think I'm terrified? You think that I _want_ to be here? I need you, Kate. I need _you_, as my _wife_, to be there for me. What happened to in sickness and in health?"

"I'm sorry, Castle. I am." He wants to call her out on it. Call her out on all of the bullshit, but she's already picking up her bag, swinging it over her shoulder and then she's gone, the door closing behind her.

He's alone.

* * *

"Where's Daddy?" Is the first question that Ben asks her when they're seated around the dining table. Kate can tell that the question has been on his mind ever since she picked him up from the childminders. She's usually the one who takes him in the morning, on her way to work, but it's Castle who brings him home again.

"He's in hospital. He needs surgery, so he won't be home. Just us for a while. But it'll be okay, he'll be fine. And when he comes back he might be able to remember things, and that'll be good. Right?"

"What if he doesn't remember?" Mary asks, fixing her mother with something Castle had termed the Beckett stare. Or at least, the Castle she knew anyway. Thought she knew. "What if he's never coming back?"

"Then… I don't know. I don't know, Mary."

"You can go to the hospital, mom. We'll be okay. Alexis and Jenson aren't that far away, and there's Mr. Capelli across the hall. I can do bedtime, I've done it before. Dad needs you, Mom."

"Dad's under anaesthetic. He won't miss me."

Mary takes one look at her mother and to Ben and Jamie, it seems that they're going to have a staring match, but then Mary pushes her plate away and slides off the table. "I'm not hungry. I'm going to make a start on my homework."

"I'll put the leftovers in the fridge. You'll want them later."

"No, I'm fine."

"Mary-"

"I'm not hungry, Mom. I'll be upstairs."

* * *

"It's hard on families, this." Bethany is the intern prepping him for surgery, a short-haired, chatty young female who has a cheeky glint in her eye. She's trying to make him feel better, trying to dispel his nerves, and he appreciates it. A lot. "This is scary, for everyone. But we can help with any questions that she has, or your family. You've got kids, right?"

"Four, supposedly. Though I only remember one of them. Alexis, she's the eldest. And then there's Mary, and Jamie and Ben. Plus the dogs. Pugs. Four of them. Don't remember any of them either."

"Maybe Kate will bring the kids in to visit tomorrow. Things might be better then. You might have regained all your memories back, and things will be back to normal. But, you're all set. Are you ready to go?"

"Not particularly, but take me anyway. I might as well get it over and done with."

"We can take a couple of minutes if you want. Unsworth will understand."

"No, it's fine. It's not like I have anyone to say goodbye to. I don't think Kate will answer the phone."

"Not even one of your daughters?"

"Alexis doesn't live at home anymore. She's married, I think. Has her own life. Kate says I shouldn't bother her. Which doesn't sound like the Kate I know, really. She'd want Alexis to know. I don't know what's happened to her. She wouldn't do this. Not the Kate I know."

Bethany pats his hand, offers him one of the first genuine smiles that he's received since this whole thing started. "Like I said. We offer help, any questions that you have, that they have, we can answer them. Even in a month, if there's anything we can do."

Castle nods, and leans back in the bed, closing his eyes. He can feel the panic rising in his throat now, clogging his airways and making his stomach churn. "Hey, Rick." Bethany says, squeezing his hand. "Just breathe. It'll be fine."


	4. Chapter 4

**This would have been better and longer and just better in general only I am ill. Chesty cough and cold and stuffed up nose and I am highly contagious. –breathes on you all- -cough- I'm kidding, I would never do that.**

* * *

His head hurts.

Wow.

Oh, his head really hurts.

Did he drink too much? Was he even drinking anything last night? No, it was just a quiet evening at the loft with Kate. They drank maybe a glass of wine each. That was it. Not nearly enough to make him feel that ill, surely. And then he realises, in his just woken up daze, there's something brushing against his cheek. Strong and gentle, rasping against the day old stubble against on his cheek.

"Castle?" the voice is soft and tender, recognisable in tone.

"Kate…" he breathes out, a questionable relief flowing over him for a reason he can't find. "You're here."

"Course I am. Where else would I be?"

Even though his eyes are still closed, he squeezes them tighter because he's sure that there's something else he needs to remember. There's something important. "You… you left?"

"What?" there's disbelief and hurt in her voice, though it's still soft and quiet, he can feel the underlying tension breaking through her careful façade. "I've not been anywhere. Ever since you came in, I've been by your bedside. I wasn't allowed to be in the surgery, but I've been here."

"The… surgery. I had… a subdural…"

"Subdural haematoma. You banged your head pretty bad."

"Yeah… no…"

"Castle, it's okay. You've just woken up from major brain surgery. It's okay to be a bit confused."

"No… I didn't. I didn't bang my head. You said I hadn't."

"You've been unconscious for a day and a half. It's okay, Castle. You just need to rest."

He can already feel the tug of exhaustion pulling him under, whether it's left over anaesthesia or just the exhaustion of brain surgery, he can feel the pull of sleep, the allure of that blissful black abyss. Kate's hand is back against his cheek, skating over his skin. He'd say it tickled if he had the energy.

* * *

He opens his eyes the next time he wakes. Kate's still there, which confuses him, curled up in what looks like the most uncomfortable chair and flicking lazily through a trashy romance novel that he's sure she's picked up from a waiting room somewhere. She looks… different from what he remembers. Younger, care free.

"What's the book?"

She looks up almost instantly, book going limp in her hand. There's a light sparking in her eyes at his voice, a light that he realised was never present in the Kate that called herself his wife. "Trashy romance. My favourite, you know. How are you feeling?"

"My head doesn't hurt." He says slowly, still acutely aware that this Kate, although she looks years younger, could still leave him at any minute.

"That's good." And she says it with such conviction that he almost believes her. Almost believes that she's glad he's okay. "The doctor was in before. He's happy too."

"I'm still confused about everything else. The last thing I remember was … you said I wasn't your husband. And then you left."

She looks at him, eyebrows furrowed, seemingly just as confused as he is. It doesn't help matters. "But… you're not my husband. Castle, we're not married."

"What?"

Kate holds up her left hand, and like she says, her ring finger is bare. "We're not married."

"But… what about Mary? And Jamie, and Ben. And all the dogs?"

"All the dogs? We've got Latte. That's only one. And I don't know who Mary, Jamie or Ben are either."

He stares at her, confused and bewildered and puzzled and baffled. And then he's trying to sit up but the pain in his head, plus Kate's hand on his arm soon as him sinking back against the pillows. And then he remembers something that Kate had told him. Martha. He needs to know if his mother is okay. It's a sudden rise of panic that has his heart racing alarmingly. "What about my mother? What's – where's my mother."

"Castle, babe, calm down." She's leaning over him, fingers at the junction of neck and jaw, soft and gentle and familiar. He remembers it, from late nights where she thought he was asleep. " She's at home, waiting for me to phone her. Alexis too. They're both fine. Castle, what's going on?"

"I don't know. I… everything's… confusing. We had three children. There was three of them, and Alexis was married and had her own family, and there was four dogs and we were married, but I couldn't remember. I couldn't remember anything except you and Latte, I think. But you weren't… you."

"I wasn't me?"

"You told me that I didn't love my family. You said that I had forgotten them, and I didn't know them, and that I couldn't love them. How could you say that?"

Kate drops the book on the floor and moves to sit on the edge of his bed, taking his hand in both of hers. "I'd never say that. I didn't say that. Castle, I know you. You love so fiercely, with everything you have, and I know, I _know_ that if you ever forgot our children it doesn't mean you don't love them."

"But we don't have any children?"

"Not yet. Just us and Latte. We're not even engaged."

"Oh…"

"It was just the haematoma, Castle. Just that. You were hallucinating, or dreaming, or… something. But whoever that was, whatever Kate you were supposed to be married to, that wasn't me. I wouldn't just leave you on your own in a hospital. I wouldn't. I promise."

"I was scared. I- Kate, I was so scared."

She's shifting even as he speaks, stretching herself out alongside him. There's little space as it was, but she somehow manages it, drapes her arm across his chest. She's a heavy weight, grounding, an anchor to the life he thought he had. "I know, Castle. I know. It's okay. It's over."


End file.
